


The Third Task

by FloreatCastellum



Series: Missing Hogwarts Moments [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Everyone worrying about Harry, Friendship, Gen, Male Friendship, Ron's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 02:29:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19820686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FloreatCastellum/pseuds/FloreatCastellum
Summary: Ron and his family wait in the stands, watching the third task of the Triwizard Tournament.





	The Third Task

A show had been put on for the third task. The second task had been water displays and lights, this one was more like a circus - acrobats contorted themselves inside large, shimmering bubbles, fire breathers created dragon shapes that twisted in the air, and all of it was punctuated with Bagman’s commentary and speculation. 

‘It’s just been confirmed to me that Mr Krum has been withdrawn from the competition! It’s a dead heat between Mr Diggory and Mr Potter - but we’re sure to have a Hogwarts champion!’ 

The crowd yelled and shrieked with excitement - Ron grinned eagerly at Hermione, but to his irritation she was looking with great concern at Krum being carried out of the maze on a stretcher. 

Beside him Ginny was giggling and pointing - he followed her gaze to see some slapstick routine being performed by a clown trying to mount a broom. Pushing thoughts of Krum out of his mind, Ron laughed with her, Fred and George as the clown flew backwards, waving his arms like a windmill. 

The dark shapes of wizards on brooms flew overhead, occasionally hovering over the maze and then flitting back to Bagman, though Ron was baffled as to how they would be able to see anything at all - the sky was getting darker and darker. 

‘The acromantula are on the move!’ announced Bagman. ‘At least one of our champions is close to the centre!’ 

‘Ugh,’ muttered Ron, shrinking back as a magizoologist brought out an adolescent acromantula the size of a pygmy hippo. 

‘Don’t be silly, Ron, it’s nowhere near you,’ said Mum, though he felt her rub his back reassuringly. ‘Listen, it’s so interesting,’ she added, as the magizoologist was interviewed by a jovial Bagman about acromantula. Ron had found the sphinx demonstration far more interesting. 

‘Merlin, I wouldn’t want to be stuck in a maze with any, though,’ said Bill as the fang length and poison properties of the giant spiders was discussed and the crowd ‘ooh’d’. 

‘Oh, Harry’ll be all right,’ said Ron, who still felt ill as he stared at the spider’s legs. ‘We’ve fought off loads of them before.’ 

‘Oh, stop it, Ron,’ huffed Mum. ‘Don’t remind me about all of that, think of my nerves.’

‘I’m saying he’ll be fine!’ 

‘I think he could win this, you know,’ said Mum quietly, a proud little smile crossing her face. Ron had to agree. The fear that Harry would die was entirely gone - Krum and Fleur might have been brought out unconscious, but that wasn’t so bad really, and Harry was good at this kind of stuff. The maze element was probably what he was struggling with most - he’d almost laughed when the crowd had gasped as Bagman revealed there was a boggart. Who cared? 

‘If he doesn’t, he’s still done seriously well,’ Bill reminded her. ‘Two champions down, and neither of them are anything to sniff at.’ 

‘Both remaining champions are close to the centre of the maze!’ boomed Bagman. ‘Victory is in sight!’ 

Next was a performance from the wizarding band The Rogue Bludgers - Ginny was beside herself with glee, as were many other girls, it seemed, a chorus from the crowd as they sang along and danced. 

‘Oh no,’ he muttered, his ears burning as the song finished. 

He was forced to duck behind a sniggering George as Fleur Delacour, revived by Madam Pomfrey, approached them, standing up on her tip toes to grip the base of the stands and talk to them. 

‘You are ‘Arry’s family?’ she enquired, seemingly talking to them all, but her eyes fixed on Bill who was suddenly very still. ‘I saw you, earlier.’ 

‘That’s right,’ said Mum. ‘You’ve done ever so well, dear, congratulations.’ 

‘I lost,’ said Fleur bluntly. ‘But ‘Arry ‘as done so well, for such a leetle boy.’ 

‘Bill Weasley,’ said Bill suddenly, leaning down and holding out his hand as Ginny spluttered with indignation and Mum’s eyes narrowed. 

Ron wished she would leave, his embarrassment was making him feel like he could shrivel up to the size of a tangerine, and now Hermione, ginny and his mother were all looking moody while Fred and George stared gormlessly at Fleur gazing up at Bill. 

Determined to think of something else, he looked at the dark hedges of the maze, wondering what Harry was doing now. They had said he was close to the centre ages ago, it couldn’t be long now. Perhaps he was still battling an acromantula. His insides squirmed. Running away was one thing - was Harry expected to kill it? Seemed harsh to kill animals for the sake of a contest, but then it wasn’t like Harry could run away in there so what else was he supposed to do? 

A trapeze artist was wowing the crowd now, flipping and spinning and launching herself through the air. Fleur finally left, Bill staring after her, but was quickly replaced by Percy, beaming in his Ministry robes. 

‘Having a nice time?’ he asked them pompously, as though he were hosting the whole thing. 

‘Who’s in the lead?’ asked Fred. ‘They’ve been saying it’s close for ages.’ 

‘Ah, they’ve lost track of them,’ said Percy easily. ‘It’s too dark to see, we didn’t think it would take this long - I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough. What did you think about the Rogue Bludgers, Ginny? I’m told they’re pretty groovy.’ 

Fred and George immediately started ruthlessly mocking Percy for saying groovy, and Ron and Hermione focused on the trapeze artist, Hermione gasping and squealing as the feats got more and more impressive. 

Then the clowns were back on, performing a new routine, and the Rogue Bludgers returned, looking rather irritated as they performed another song. Then the fire breathers were back, doing the same routine they had earlier. 

‘I think something’s wrong,’ said Hermione quietly. 

Ron tore his eyes away from the contortionists to look at her. ‘Huh? It’s fine, it’s just taking a while, maybe they accidentally moved away from the centre and are lost.’ 

‘They’re using wand light,’ Hermione pointed out. 

Indeed, the shadowy shapes of the Ministry officials flying overhead were now senind down little beams of light. 

‘Perhaps they’re worried they’re both knocked out somewhere,’ said George. 

‘What would happen then?’ asked Bill. ‘A tie?’ 

‘Er…’ said Percy, looking a little flustered. ‘Well, yes, I suppose… We could probably find out who was knocked out first… Just… I’ll be back in a tic.’ 

He hurried off, leaving them uneasily glancing at one another. 

‘D’you think he’s injured in there somewhere?’ Ginny asked nervously. 

‘I’m sure he’s not,’ said Mum, though she looked just as worried. ‘It is very dark now.’

But it had been at least an hour, probably longer, since Bagman had said that both champions were near the centre, and they were clearly running out of ways to entertain the crowd. The old magizoologist was dragged out again to give the same spiel about boggarts that he had done earlier in the evening. The clowns got far fewer laughs now that everyone knew the punchlines. Mutters and whispers were starting to ripple through the crowd. 

They waited and waited and waited, and the Ministry officials kept running back and forth, and finally some of them went into the maze. 

‘Not to worry, folks, we’re just on the look out to see if our remaining champions need a little extra help!’ came Bagman’s voice cheerfully. 

Ron realised that his fingers were tapping anxiously against the edge of the box. Beside him Hermione was wringing her hands. Bill was leaning on the edge, the back of his hand against his mouth, his eyes narrowed as they watched Dumbledore walk across the lawn to where the Ministry officials were gathered. 

‘Mummy,’ said Ginny, her voice high. ‘What’s going on?’ 

Mum didn’t answer. The organisers seemed to have given up trying to persuade the entertainment to continue running through their routines. A deep feeling of unsettlement was wrapping around Ron. It wasn’t like Harry to be slow with anything, and he didn’t know Diggory well, but it didn’t seem like him either. 

He had horrible visions of one of those big spiders paralysing Harry, wrapping him up in a web, eating him - that was what Aragog had said he would do to them a few years ago. He imagined the legs spinning him, the fangs dripping, the many eyes glinting. He found himself shaking, and Hermione grasped hold of him. 

‘I’m sure it’s fine, I’m sure it’s fine,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I’m sure it’s fine-’

The crowd was now humming with confused chatter. From above, Ron heard someone bracingly say, ‘reckon one of ‘em’s snuffed it?’ and their friend laugh uneasily. 

‘Percy!’ Mum started shouting, trying to wave him over. ‘Percy!’ 

But Percy was deep in conversation with Bagman, still looking rather flustered. Nearby, Dumbledore and the Minister of Magic were listening intently to one of the organisers, still clutching his broomstick, pointing over at the hedges and gesturing as he shook his head. 

‘I’ve never seen Dumbledore like that,’ said Fred. ‘He looks really…’ 

Worried, Ron wanted to finish for him.

Yet more time passed. The lawn was empty of entertainment, but it was still lit, the backdrop of the dark hedges of the maze looming over the grass. It was there that Ron saw something large suddenly appear and slam into the ground. 

He recognised Harry’s dark hair immediately, and felt the world shrink away. He was lying face down in the grass, unmoving. One arm slung over Diggory, also unmoving, staring up at the starry sky. Something catastrophic had happened. 

‘Oh God!’ shrieked Mum, clasping one hand to her chest and one on the edge of the box. 

‘Mum!’ Ron blurted out, fear squeezing his voice into a hoarse, half-sob. Others were shouting too, girls were screaming, beside him Hermione had burst into tears, but none of them knew why yet, they were only aware that something had gone horribly, horribly wrong and that neither Harry nor Diggory were moving. 

Dumbledore and Fudge and the Ministry officials ran over - Ron saw Dumbledore kneel and turn Harry over before they were hidden by a circle of Ministry officials. Then came the wave of voices, louder and louder and increasingly frantic. 

‘He’s dead! He’s dead!’ 

‘Diggory - dead!’ 

‘Cedric!’

Amos Diggory seemed to leap down from his box, racing across the lawn, screaming his son’s name, Mrs Diggory running behind. Mum was trying to leave too, and so was Ron - desperate to see Harry, to check he was all right, but they were stuck in a bottle neck as people fought to get out of the stands. The Ministry officials were suddenly screaming at people to get back - Ron could see three of them pushing Amos Diggory back. 

‘He’s there!’ cried Hermione, pointing. ‘He’s all right!’ 

Professor Moody was grasping Harry, leading him away. Harry seemed disorientated, confused, unable to walk without support, and splattered with blood. 

‘His leg’s broken,’ said Bill sharply. 

‘Harry! Harry!’ Mum was shouting, but he didn’t seem to hear her. Professor Moody half led, half dragged him away - even from such a distance, Ron could see utter terror on his friend’s face, unlike Ron had ever seen before, his skin a deathly pale colour. 

A great howl of despair filled the night - they looked over to see Amos Diggory battling to get past the Ministry officials holding him back, Professor Dumbledore walking solemnly towards him. 

‘Fuck,’ Bill was muttering. ‘What the fuck has happened?’ 

Mum was sobbing too much to even throw him a look for swearing. They were buffered by the crowd down the steps of the stands, but it still wasn’t fast enough for the. Hermione was trembling and crying beside him; Ron slung an arm around her. 

‘Something terrible has happened,’ she squeaked. 

‘He’s all right,’ Ron told her. ‘You saw yourself.’ 

‘I knew it, I knew it, someone put his name in and something awful-’

‘He’s all right-’

They reached the lawn, but they could no longer see Professor Moody or Harry. It was chaos around them, the crowd pressing in, the Ministry officials shouting for people to stay back, telling them to leave the scene and head to the Great Hall. 

‘Percy!’ shouted George, and they saw Percy turn on his heel and gape at them, clutching his head. 

‘What’s happened?’ demanded Bill. 

‘He… dead,’ said Percy disbelievingly. ‘I… There were so many safety procedures… It’s not possible…’

‘Percy!’ cried Mum. ‘What’s happened?’ 

‘I don’t understand…’ Percy was saying vaguely, his face drained of colour. ‘It shouldn’t have been possible…’ 

‘Where’s Harry?’ Ron urged. ‘Percy?’ 

Percy blinked at him. ‘Harry?’ he said, his voice still faraway sounding. ‘Harry…’ 

‘Professor!’ cried Hermione. 

Dumbledore was pulling people out of the way, a searching look on his grim face. At Hermione’s cry he looked over at them, surveying the group, his eyes flicking over all of them individually and seeing, apparently, that Harry was not with them. 

‘Where’s Professor Moody gone with Harry?’ Hermione asked. ‘The hospital wing?’ 

Something changed in Professor Dumbledore’s face, and, without uttering a word to them, he stormed away, his robes billowing. ‘Severus!’ they heard him growl. ‘Minerva!’ The air seemed to crackle with magic, and from Dumbledore’s wand burst a silvery phoenix, which flew away in the direction of the mountain above Hogsmead. 

There was loud wailing - the Ministry officials had let the Diggory’s pass. They were enchanting a large white tent over where Cedric had appeared. 

‘Fred, George,’ said Mum, her voice suddenly business-like despite the tear tracks on her face. ‘Take Ginny back to Gryffindor Tower.’ 

‘But-’

‘Now,’ she said harshly. 

‘Come on,’ said George, darkly, taking Ginny by the arm as devastating, heart-wrenching cries sounded from the tent. ‘You shouldn’t be listening to this.’ 

‘I have to go too,’ said Percy faintly, staring at the tent. ‘I… I have to tell… I have to go…’ 

Mum reached out to him, ready to hug him, but Percy didn’t seem to notice. He wandered away as though in a daze. 

‘We need to see Harry,’ Hermione was moaning beside Ron. ‘Ron, did you see him - did you see how… how…’ She burst into tears. 

‘What do you think’s happened?’ Ron asked his mother quietly as Fred and George took Ginny away. 

Mum shook her head, her lips a thin line. ‘They’ll have taken him to the hospital wing,’ she said firmly. ‘It’s all right, Ron, come on, we’ll go and find him.’ 

She led them up the lawn, following the crowd, which was alive with fearful speculation. 

‘One of them big spiders, you reckon?’ 

‘But how did they appear there? That wasn’t supposed to happen, was it?’ 

‘Something tore his leg up - did you see?’ 

‘Was he really dead? Diggory?’ 

‘Beel! Beel!’ Fleur Delacour was sprinting over to them. ‘Iz it true? Cedric?’ 

‘I- yeah, I think so-’

Her eyes filled with tears, but her expression was set. ‘What ‘appened, zey must ‘ave told you all-’

‘They haven’t,’ snapped Mum. ‘You know as much as we do.’ 

They reached the entrance hall, but instead of filtering through to the crowded Great Hall like everyone else, they went up the marble steps and along the corridor to the hospital wing. There was something disconcerting and creepy about it - it was only when Ron was halfway down the corridor that he realised all the portraits were empty. An unsettling stillness was over place. 

They reached the hospital wing, expecting to burst in and see Harry at once, but it was empty except for Madam Pomfrey, who was looking nervously out of a window. 

‘Where is he?’ cried Mum. ‘Where is he?’ 

‘We need to see Harry!’ Ron added fiercely, as though they would be asking for anyone else.

‘They haven’t brought him here yet,’ said Madam Pomfrey, sounding uncharacteristically not-cross. ‘I… I don’t know-’

‘You must know!’ 

‘I don’t!’ 

‘They will bring him here,’ said Bill quickly. ‘They’re probably talking to him, they’ll bring him here, don’t worry, Mum.’ 

Just a few minutes later, the doors burst open. The wheeled around, ready to see Harry, but Snape burst into the room, looking even paler and more sour faced than normal. 

‘Dumbledore has requested you, Poppy,’ he said. ‘Please, follow me.’ 

‘What’s wrong with him?’ cried Mum. ‘Professor-’

‘It’s not for Potter,’ he said bluntly. ‘Dumbledore is talking to the boy - Poppy, please.’ 

Without another word, they were left alone in the hospital wing. Ron’s mind spun. What on earth had happened? Where was Harry? His very breathing seemed to be making him feel light headed, it prickled in his chest. He bit down on his lower lip to stop it from trembling. He had never wanted to see his friend more. 

Ten minutes later, Madam Pomfrey returned, an enchanted stretcher floating alongside her. On it was Professor Moody, though he looked far thinner than Ron had ever seen him.

‘Why is he unconscious?’ Mum demanded, as Madam Pomfrey levitated Moody onto a bed. ‘He was with Harry, surely nothing else can have happened?’ 

‘As I understand it,’ said Madam Pomfrey steadily, running her wand over Professor Moody, ‘this man has been held hostage for some tie. The man we believed was Professor Moody was in fact an imposter.’ 

Ron’s jaw dropped. 

‘What?’ asked Mum faintly. 

‘I don’t know the details,’ said Madam Pomfrey firmly, summoning potion vials from her office. ‘Only that there is another man in that office, and that Professor Snape tells me he is a Death Eater. Professor McGonagall is standing guard.’

‘A… A Death Eater?’ asked Mum, clutching at her chest again. 

‘But… No, that can’t be right, we’ve all been with Professor Moody lots of times,’ Hermione babbled. ‘He… He helped Harry - he-’

Ron had never seen Hermione so lost for words. Madam Pomfrey starting tipping potions into Professor Moody’s mouth. They all stared for a moment, horrified confusion hanging in the air. 

‘Was Harry there?’ asked Ron desperately. ‘He was with Professor Moody, we saw him-’

‘No, he wasn’t,’ said Madam Pomfrey, finally finishing pouring the potions down Moody’s throat. She stepped away from the bed and walked over to them. ‘I’m sorry, I wish I could tell you more.’

‘Where’s Snape then?’ asked Bill. ‘He sees to know what’s going on, we need someone to-’

‘He’s gone to fetch the Minister for Magic,’ said Madam Pomfrey snappishly. ‘I don’t know any more than that.’ 

‘But someone must know where Harry is-’

‘No one has told us anything, he was just swept away-’

‘Is he all right?’ 

‘Snape must have said something-’

‘Where is he?’

The doors opened again, and they whipped around. Dumbledore was there, his face grave but calm. Beside him, looking utterly exhausted, was Harry. He had a far away sort of expression, as though he were looking right through them, and now that Ron could see him closely he could see that he was covered in grime and dirt and mud. Standing so close to his legs that he was practically leaning on them was a great, shaggy black dog Ron recognised as Sirius. Harry’s fingers were clasping the tuft of hair at the dog’s hackles. 

Mum let out a pained cry, and rushed towards him. ‘Harry! Oh, Harry!’ 

Dumbledore stepped nimbly in front of Harry, holding up a calming hand. ‘Molly… Please listen to me for a moment. Harry has been through a terrible ordeal tonight. He has just had to relive it for me. What he needs now is sleep, and peace, and quiet. If he would like you all to stay with him,’ he added, fixing his blue eyes on them all, ‘you may do so. But I do not want you questioning him until he is ready to answer, and certainly not this evening.’ 

Mum hissed at them to be quiet, but she didn’t need to. All Ron had wanted to do all evening was to rush to his friend and grab him and demand to know what had happened, but now that he was here, he felt an odd sense of fear. He could hardly believe that it was really him - something fundamental had changed. Harry seemed to move slowly as Dumbledore informed them that the dog would be staying and Madam Pomfrey led him to a bed. 

‘I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry,’ Dumbledore said, his voice gentle. ‘I would like you to remain here tomorrow, until I have spoken to the school.’ 

Harry nodded vaguely, still moving slowly and blankly as Dumbledore left. ‘Is he OK?’ Ron heard him ask Madam Pomfrey, staring at Professor Moody. His voice sounded faint. 

‘He’ll be fine,’ said Madam Pomfrey, and then she pulled screens around him. They waited, glancing nervously at one another. The dog was pacing backwards and forwards, his tail between his legs. 

The door opened slightly again - Dumbledore was briefly back, with a look as though he had forgotten something. He gestured Madam Pomfrey over, and whispered into her ear. She nodded solemnly, and he left again. They remained silent until they heard the slight creak of the bed and Madam Pomfrey gave them the nod, at which point they moved around and took seats in the chairs on either side of the bed. 

Ron stared at him. He hardly knew what to do with himself, what to think. He had never seen Harry like this before, it were as though he were a different person. He was torn between desperately wanting to know what had happened, and sure that he didn’t want to hear at all. 

Harry looked back at them. ‘I’m all right,’ he said quietly, and though his voice was steady he didn’t look all right at all. ‘Just tired.’ 

Mum sniffed loudly and smoothed Harry’s bed covers. The dog whined slightly and jumped up, lying at the base of the bed, his snout resting against Harry’s knee. 

Madam Pomfrey threw him a look, but bustled away to her office. Harry didn’t seem to register much at all - his eyes looked very strange, as though they were looking at something very far away, wider than normal. 

Madam Pomfrey returned with a goblet. ‘You’ll need to drink all of this Harry. It’s a potion for a dreamless sleep,’ she said, her voice far more gentle than normal. 

Harry took the goblet and began to drink - Madam Pomfrey’s hands hovered, one at the back of his head and the other by the goblet as she watched him carefully. Harry’s eyes immediately began to droop, he started to sway where he sat, his head lolling back as Madam Pomfrey used her hand to try and keep it up, pushing the goblet to his lips. ‘Try and finish all of it, Harry,’ she said loudly. ‘A little more-’

But Harry was already asleep, slumping back into the pillows as Madam Pomfrey guided him, his chest rising and falling with a great sigh. Madam Pomfrey removed his glasses and set them on the table. 

She watched Harry carefully for a few moments, and then, apparently satisfied that he really was asleep, ran her wand over him. The dirt and blood vanished from his skin, lifting as though evaporating into nothingness, revealing a large bruise over his right cheek bone. Madam Pomfrey swiftly applied a balm, and it vanished. 

Next, she went straight to his forearm - Ron wondered if it had been this that Dumbledore had whispered to her, for when she pulled back Harry’s pyjama sleeve, there was a large, deep cut. Cleanly made. The dog whined pitifully. Madam Pomfrey healed it, but a thin red line remained. 

‘He needs quiet,’ she said softly. ‘If he didn’t drink all the potion he could wake again before he’s ready.’ She hesitated. ‘If he does wake, and complains about muscle ache, do fetch me, won’t you?’ 

Ron did not know what she meant by this, but his mother certainly seemed to connect some dots, and she let out a fresh whimper, and buried her face in her hands. 

‘There was a leg injury as well,’ Hermione blurted out. ‘He couldn’t stand properly, I saw-’

‘Phoenix tears saw to that,’ said Madam Pomfrey. ‘I will be back shortly - I need to create a potion for Professor Moody.’ 

She bustled away, leaving them in a stunned, heavy silence around his bedside, occasionally punctuated by Sirius’s whines that he seemed unable to hold back. Ron wished that his mother and Bill weren’t here, so that Sirius could change back into a human and tell them what was going on. 

Mum dragged her chair a little closer and carefully rubbed Harry’s shoulder. Harry slept on, expressionless, unknowing. 

‘I bet He was involved somehow,’ Hermione whispered. ‘If… You know, if there was a Death Eater…’ 

‘And because He always is, one way or another, isn’t he?’ Ron whispered back. The dog looked at them. His tail gave one heavy, sad thump against the bed. 

Ron sank back in his chair, trying to make sense of it all. It seemed bizarre that just a few hours previously they had been laughing, amazed, at circus tricks, gaping in amazement as a magizoologist told them all about the sphinx, speculating with Fred and George about the sort of jinxes Harry might be using, and what they would be doing if it were them in there. 

It seemed even more alien that just a few months ago Ron had been jealous of Harry’s role as champion. But then, he never would have thought it would end up like this. 

It was not until Dumbledore returned, with the Minister shouting and Professor McGonagall close to tears, that they started to be drip fed answers. Ron sat there, stunned and horrified, watching the argument with amazement as he learned that Voldemort had captured Harry… and…

‘The plan succeeded,’ said Dumbledore, his voice low and dangerous as he glared at Fudge. ‘Voldemort has been restored to his body.’

Ron thought he might vomit, or wake up from whatever nightmare he was having. Nothing quite seemed real. Hermione was trembling so much that her chair was shaking; Mum and Bill were staring, aghast, at Dumbledore.

Sirius had leapt down from Harry’s bed and was growling, hackles raised and teeth bared, as Fudge suggested that Harry was lying. 

‘You’ve been reading Rita Skeeter, Mr Fudge,’ came Harry’s sudden, quiet voice. 

Ron jumped, and spun in his chair. Harry was sitting up again, his glasses returned to his face, staring at Fudge with an odd look of resignation. Ron continued to watch Harry as he listened to Fudge’s accusations of his mental derangement and outlandish stories, and he watched as Harry suddenly snapped in anger that he had seen Voldemort come back, watched as he tried to get out of bed and Mum had to hold him back, listened as, with an increasingly loud and cracked voice, Harry listed the names of Death Eaters he had seen. Soon Harry was sinking back, in devastated disbelief, as the Minister for Magic refused to believe him.

Even when Snape strode forward and furiously showed Fudge a strange red mark, confirming, it seemed to Ron, that he too was a Death Eater, Fudge refused to listen. 

‘Your winnings,’ he said, dumping a heavy, clinking bag on Harry’s bedside table. Harry recoiled, pressing his lips firmly together. Fudge left to the sound of Sirius’s growls. 

Bill was sent to find Dad, and Madam Pomfrey was sent to find Winky, and then Dumbledore turned to Sirius, and told him to return to his normal form. 

Mum’s face paled as she leapt up, screaming. ‘Sirius Black!’

‘Mum, shut up!’ Ron shouted hurriedly, ‘It’s OK!’ 

Snape’s face was contorted with rage, but Dumbledore forced the most awkward handshake in British history, and gave Sirius a list of jobs too. 

Ron saw Harry’s face fall into panic at once. ‘But-’ 

At Harry’s shaking voice, Sirius stepped forward, leaning over Harry’s bed and muttering quietly to him that he would see him soon. 

Harry looked utterly miserable, but he nodded. Sirius grasped his hand, and transformed back into a dog. Harry watched, with unhappy longing, as he went. 

Once Snape and Dumbledore had left, Harry slumped back against his pillows. The heavy, fearful silence had returned. Ron couldn’t take his eyes off Harry’s pale, shattered face. 

Mum spoke first, encouraging him to drink the rest of his potion, desperately trying to distract him with happy thoughts. ‘Think about what you’re going to buy with your winnings!’ 

‘I don’t want that gold,’ Harry replied dully, staring blankly up at the ceiling. ‘You have it. Anyone can have it. I shouldn’t have won it. It should have been Cedric’s.’

Ron saw, for the first time that night, Harry’s eyes shine, saw him blink rapidly and his jaw tense. Perhaps for the first time ever. He could not remember ever seeing Harry like this. 

‘It wasn’t your fault, Harry,’ Mum whispered.

‘I told him to take the Cup with me,’ said Harry hollowly, his voice cracking. He looked more broken than Ron had ever thought he could be. It frightened him, because Harry had always been all right - he hadn’t seemed this traumatised when he had stopped Quirrell, nor when he had slaughtered a basilisk, nor with the other two tasks. Even when he had collapsed due to Dementors, Ron had always had the sense that though he was shaken up, he was more embarrassed than anything else. 

This was something far worse, some deep disturbance.

Mum set the potion down, and embraced Harry. Ron saw Harry’s arms tremble and then grip at his mother’s robes very tightly, his face buried against her neck as her hand rubbed his back. He could see Mum’s eyes close and her lips press together as tears slipped down her face. 

A sudden bang made them jump - Ron twisted round to see Hermione by the windowsill. He hadn’t even felt her rise. ‘Sorry,’ she whispered.

Mum wiped her tears away with the back of her hand, and then, in that steadying voice Ron remembered from his own childhood whenever he had been upset, said, ‘your potion, Harry.’ 

Harry’s face was expressionless again as he took it. He drank from it heavily, gulping until it was drained, and then sinking back with that same, instant drowsiness as before, seemingly asleep before he hit the pillow. 

Mum burst into tears, and Ron rose, hugging her, fighting back the burning sensation in his own eyes. Mum clasped his hand. ‘He’ll need you two,’ she said, her voice wobbling. 

Ron nodded. ‘He’s got us.’

They sat watching over him in silence, all of them absorbing the horrible information they had learned, piecing it all together. No one wanted to ask what had happened anymore, no one wanted to speculate how he had escaped or what he might have seen or how any of it happened in the first place. That could come later. It was enough that he was here at all. 

Finally Mum broke the silence. ‘Can someone explain to me where that dog came from and how it turned into Sirius Black?’ 

Ron smiled weakly, and began to explain, only stopping when Madam Pomfrey returned and the dawn’s light began to fall softly through the windows.


End file.
